Marco did not reach for his weapon.
That probably saved his life.
Dominic's hand already rested near the pistol secured beside his wheelchair.
"Explain."
Marco looked toward Isabella, then the guards.
"Alone."
"No."
"Dominic."
"I said explain."
Marco exhaled.
"The night you were shot, I wasn't where I told you I was."
Dominic felt something cold spread through his chest.
"You said you were meeting Russo."
"I wasn't."
"Where were you?"
"Following Anthony Bell."
Dominic stared at him.
"You knew Bell was compromised?"
"I suspected."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't have proof."
"So you followed him while I walked into an ambush."
Pain crossed Marco's face.
"Yes."
The word landed like another bullet.
Dominic looked away.
For years Marco had been the one man he trusted.
"You left me exposed."
"I thought Bell was stealing."
"You thought wrong."
"I know."
Dominic's anger exploded.
He swept a glass from the side table.
It shattered against the wall.
"You knew something was wrong and said nothing!"
"I was trying to protect you."
"That phrase is becoming very popular around me."
Marco flinched.
Dominic continued.
"You let me walk into that alley."
"I didn't know there was a hit."
"But you knew Bell was meeting someone."
"Yes."
"Who?"
"Victor Salvi."
Dominic froze.
Pieces rearranged themselves.
Bell.
Salvi.
Vescari.
The ambush.
Isabella.
This wasn't a series of unrelated moves.
It was one operation.
Vescari had spent years positioning pieces around Dominic.
"Why shoot me without killing me?" Dominic asked.
Isabella answered quietly.
"Because he needed you vulnerable."
Everyone looked at her.
She continued.
"He didn't want you dead."
Dominic understood.
"He wanted me dependent."
"On the people around you."
Marco's expression darkened.
"And eventually Isabella."
The cruelty of the plan was almost elegant.
Vescari understood something about Dominic that Dominic himself had refused to acknowledge.
Pain isolated people.
Isolation created dependency.
And dependency became attachment.
Isabella had been planted years earlier, but Dominic's injury had accelerated everything.
Vescari hadn't ordered her to care.
He hadn't needed to.
He had simply placed a good person near a wounded one and waited.
Dominic felt sick.
Isabella saw it.
"Don't."
He looked at her.
"Don't what?"
"Turn this into something fake."
"What?"
"Us."
The word hung between them.
She stepped closer.
"Vescari manipulated circumstances. He didn't make me stay in your room."
Dominic said nothing.
"He didn't make you hold my hand."
Still nothing.
"He didn't make you cancel my firing."
Marco coughed softly.
Dominic glared at him.
Marco looked away.
Isabella almost smiled.
Then became serious again.
"Whatever he planned, he doesn't own what happened afterward."
Dominic looked at her.
"I don't know what happened afterward."
She held his gaze.
"That's because you're a coward."
Marco looked fascinated.
Dominic's eyebrows rose.
"Excuse me?"
"You've faced armed men without blinking, but saying you care about somebody terrifies you."
"This is not the moment."
"There will never be a moment with you."
Even during a siege, Isabella Reyes apparently had limits.
Dominic looked at the guards.
"Leave us."
They did.
Marco hesitated.
"Especially you."
Marco left smiling.
Dominic turned back to Isabella.
"You should go."
Her expression fell.
"Where?"
"Away from me."
"That's your solution?"
"Vescari targeted you because of me."
"He targeted my family before I ever met you."
"Now he wants you because I care."
The words came out before Dominic could stop them.
Silence.
Isabella stared at him.
Dominic closed his eyes briefly.
"Congratulations."
Her voice softened.
"What?"
"You finally said it."
He opened his eyes.
"Don't make this difficult."
"It's already difficult."
"I can send you somewhere safe."
"There is nowhere safe until Vescari is stopped."
"I can arrange another country."
"Dominic."
"No."
She crouched in front of his chair.
Now they were eye level.
"I'm not leaving."
"You don't understand."
"I understand perfectly."
Her hand rested over his.
"The first night I stayed beside your bed, I thought I was helping a lonely man sleep."
His eyes remained on hers.
"Then I discovered that underneath the terrifying reputation, the expensive suits, and the terrible personality—"
"Careful."
"—there was someone worth staying for."
Dominic stopped breathing.
She leaned closer.
"And you don't get to decide alone whether I walk away."
For the first time in years, Dominic had no defense.
He touched her cheek.
Slowly.
Giving her every opportunity to move.
She didn't.
He kissed her.
It wasn't desperate.
It wasn't dramatic.
It was careful.
Almost uncertain.
A kiss between two people who had spent too much of their lives believing tenderness had a price.
When they separated, Isabella rested her forehead against his.
"That was terrible."
Dominic stared.
"What?"
She smiled.
"I'm joking."
He almost laughed.
"You're fired."
"Again?"
"Third time."
She kissed him again.
The safe-room phone rang.
Dominic muttered something unpleasant and answered.
Marco's voice came through.
"Estate secure. Attackers retreating."
"Casualties?"
"Two guards wounded. Both stable."
"Vescari?"
"Gone."
"Bell?"
"Found him."
"Alive?"
"Yes."
Dominic looked at Isabella.
"Bring him."
Anthony Bell lasted seventeen minutes under questioning.
He confessed that Vescari had recruited him through gambling debt.
The assassination attempt had been designed deliberately.
Dominic was supposed to survive.
Paralyzed if possible.
Dead only if necessary.
"Why?" Dominic demanded.
Bell swallowed.
"Because Vescari wanted your territory without starting a war."
"So he wanted me weak."
"Yes."
"And Isabella?"
Bell looked confused.
"I don't know much."
"Try."
"He called her the insurance policy."
Dominic's expression became lethal.
"Against what?"
Bell hesitated.
"The ledger."
"Why?"
"Because Mateo Reyes copied something bigger than financial records."
Isabella stepped forward.
"What?"
Bell looked at her.
"A recording."
"What recording?"
"Vescari ordering your father's death."
The room went completely silent.
Isabella went white.
Dominic's face hardened.
Bell continued.
"Your father didn't kill himself."
Isabella stopped breathing.
"No."
"That's what Vescari made everyone believe."
"No."
Her voice cracked.
Bell lowered his eyes.
"Vescari had him killed."
Dominic moved before thinking.
His hands gripped the chair.
He tried to stand.
Pain exploded through his back.
But this time something happened.
His thighs tightened.
His body rose several inches.
Gerald, standing in the doorway after being summoned during the attack, shouted.
"Dominic!"
His legs collapsed.
He fell forward.
Isabella caught his shoulders while Marco grabbed him from behind.
For several seconds nobody spoke.
Gerald stared at Dominic.
"You just activated both legs."
Dominic barely heard him.
Isabella was shaking.
He pulled her against his chest.
"My father didn't leave me," she whispered.
"No."
"He was murdered."
Dominic held her tighter.
Her grief turned into anger.
"Then we finish this."
Dominic looked at her.
"We?"
She wiped her tears.
"We."
For once, Dominic didn't argue.
Because the woman he had once considered invisible was no longer someone standing behind him.
She was standing beside him.
And together, they finally had something Adrian Vescari had not planned for.
A reason neither of them was willing to lose.
---